


Tea in the Afternoon

by theskyandsea



Series: Tea in the Afternoon [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Foreplay, Frottage, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, I know that les mis is already historical, Intimacy, Lesbian Sex, Meet-Cute, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tea, Tea Parties, Undressing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but i moved everyone to the 1860s, just really soft guys, they are wearing like 6 layers of clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskyandsea/pseuds/theskyandsea
Summary: Cosette turned her face up into the sun and sighed, languid and sated. The sun kissed her cheeks. She blinked one lazy eye open and smiled at Éponine. Everything about her was dazzling.Gentle porn for stressful times.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent & Éponine Thénardier, Cosette Fauchelevent/Éponine Thénardier, Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier, Musichetta & Éponine Thénardier
Series: Tea in the Afternoon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653982
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Tea in the Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote my first porn, I'm so proud.
> 
> This is really a gift for a friend, but I thought I'd post it here too.
> 
> Betaed by the lovely E
> 
> There's a playlist for this [here](https://theskyandsea.tumblr.com/post/611665278478237696/tea-in-the-afternoon-playlist)

The day Cosette met Éponine Thénardier dawned hot and noisy. Paris in the height of summer was rarely anything else, with tourists and merchants and farmers coming in on early trains and carriages and carts. 

Cosette did not, as point of fact, need to go out and do the shopping. She (her father) had the money to hire someone to do that for them.

But Cosette liked to feel useful, and going to the market to choose the best food for her and her father was a task that needed to be accomplished. And so every week since Cosette was old enough to be trusted not to eat all the strawberries before she got home, their housekeeper would give her a list of what the household needed and send her on her way.

She strolled through the market, ordering meat and vegetables to be delivered to the house, and picking up a few treats. She found herself thankful for the size of her skirt, which gave her some personal space in the throng of people.

At a fruit stall, she picked up several baskets of strawberries, and then came across a pallet of peaches, the first of the summer.

She ran her hand along them, finding ones that were perfectly unripe enough to be ready for breakfast in the morning.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cosette saw a woman in men’s clothing, her brown hair tucked up messily under a cap.

Her too-big jacket and unshaped loose shirt, the sleeves of which she’d pushed up to her elbows, showed her forearms and looked defiant. 

She looked like she knew who she was and she didn’t care what anyone else thought. 

The shopkeepers seemed to know her, and when some red faced man shouted something obscene at her, she just laughed derisively and made a rude gesture.  
She slipped through the crowd easily, passing by unnoticed, with the freedom of a boy.

Cosette watched the way she walked in her trousers, the long strides that were so difficult in petticoats, and blushed at seeing the shape of her legs, just out for everyone to admire. They looked strong, and she walked with such purpose.

Cosette looked away.

And she looked back. There was something incredibly liberated about it, that was all. And brave, to go out knowing people would look at her and judge.

Cosette went back to her study of the peaches. 

She chose four and paid for them, placing them gently in her basket. She moved on to the baker in the next stall, drawn by the smell of the fresh baguettes. Someone jostled her, and she nearly fell into the bread. She sorted herself out and looked around. The woman had reappeared, looking at the bread on the other side of the stall. She was holding a peach, mostly concealed by the cuff of her coat.

Cosette went to put a baguette in her basket and paused. There were only three peaches in it. She looked at the woman again. She was staring back. She raised her eyebrow and left. Cosette followed her.

The woman walked to a side alley, then whipped around. “Why are you following me?”

Cosette squared her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “Did you take one of my peaches?”

“What about it?”

“Well, to start, why take it from me? I’m much more likely to notice a missing peach than a farmer.”

“I don’t like stealing from the farmers. They work hard for their fruits and would be poorer for the lost income that they need. But you can afford another peach.”

“Like Robin Hood? Stealing from the rich to give to the poor?”

She scoffed. “I’m not that honourable. I keep it for myself.”

“There can still be honour in that. In surviving.”

“Who _are_ you?”

“My name is Cosette. What’s yours?”

“Éponine.”

Cosette felt the air punched out of her as she spoke. They were leaning into each other, chests heaving, just a breath apart. She couldn’t stop looking at Éponine’s lips, the way they were slightly chapped and bitten. Did Éponine bite her lips? Cosette would understand, she wanted to bite them herself. She forced herself to look her in the eye, and saw she was looking right at her. Had she noticed? She blushed at the thought.

But still, this was the most fun she’d had in ages. No-one ever challenged her, least of all the men she was paraded in front of at balls, who only thought of her as something pretty to own and be served by. Their conversations are always stiff, with the men already decided that they are above her, not noticing her loathing.

Impulsively, she blurted out, “Have tea with me.”

Éponine’s mouth dropped open. _“What.”_

Bolder, Cosette said, “Have tea with me. At mine. Tomorrow, if you’re free.” She pulled out one of her calling cards and her fountain pen and scrawled quick directions on the back.

Éponine pulled away slightly, and Cosette felt her loss keenly. Had she read things wrong? Would Éponine be offended?

They stared at each other for a moment quietly.

Éponine breathed out. “Okay.”

*

Éponine watched Cosette leave in shock. Her light blue skirt danced as she walked along the uneven cobbles back to the market, and she floated along as if from a different world than the farmers and rough people who worked there.

She looked at the card in her hand. The paper was smooth and creamy, with _Cosette Fauchelevent, 46 Rue de Colisée, 8ème arrondissement, Paris_ embossed on the front and a graceful blue _15h_ and a set of directions written on the back.  
She secreted the card away into an inside pocket of her coat. Small as it was, she could feel it there as she went back through the market, throwing her off.

She had smelled like roses, her perfume wafting over as she fanned the card to dry the ink. _Roses_. Éponine hadn’t realised that people like that actually existed, let alone might pay any attention to her. 

Cosette had, though. With her glittering blue eyes and her pink lips, the way her gaze had caught on Éponine’s mouth for just a second before going back up to her eyes, making her hope. 

_Was it a joke? Was it pity?_

A woman stood in front of her, waiting to talk to the butcher. Her pocket book was peaking out of her handbag, and Éponine reached forward to grab it.

The woman moved slightly, and Éponine saw Cosette in the street past the stall, supervising the loading of flour into a cart.

Her hand missed the pocket book and she stumbled into the woman.

 _“Désole,_ Madame.”

The woman eyed her suspiciously and pushed the pocketbook fully into her bag, closing it with a firm click. Éponine gave her a smile and walked away. She could feel Gavroche laughing at her for missing such an easy target.

 _Get your head on, girl,_ she thought.

When she looked back at Cosette, she and the cart were gone.

She stayed at the market for a little longer, but she was too rattled to steal much more. She resigned herself to the loss of the day and, still in a bit of a daze, walked home to the flat she shared with Musichetta.

Musichetta and Grantaire were playing a game of cards when she arrived. It was early enough that they had coffee instead of whiskey.

Musichetta smiled at her and offered her a sip. “What did you bring us from the market? Are we going to dine like kings tonight?”

Éponine snorted and pulled out her days collection of pocketbooks and food and tossed them on the table.

The peach she’d stolen from Cosette rolled over to the ashtray. It was slightly bruised from being carried around in her pocket, but still good. She grabbed a knife and started cutting it into slices for the three of them to share. The peach was sweet and juicy, and it reminded her of Cosette. 

She looked around her home. While they tried to keep the flat clean and friendly, the grime of the city was impossible to get off some things. The gas lights in the street left dark residue on their window, making it nearly impossible to get much sun or light.

Musichetta noticed her mind drifting to Cosette. “What are you dreaming about over there?”

Éponine sighed. “I met an angel today, ‘Chetta.”

Musichetta and Grantaire shared a look.

“You sound dangerously like me,” said Grantaire.

Éponine rolled her eyes and pulled out the calling card. “She invited me _over for tea._ As if it was something people just do when they meet random people on the street. Look at the card she gave me; the paper is worth more than I get all year, she can’t possibly be serious.”

She handed it to Musichetta, who looked it over. “Are you going to go?”

Éponine slid down in her chair. “No. Yes. I don't know. I want to, really, but what would I even say? ‘Hi, I’m Éponine, you represent everything I resent, shall we eat tiny sandwiches and drink tea in dainty cups?’”

Grantaire snorted into his coffee. “No, you go over and play up the street angle. Maybe she wants something a little dangerous and exciting.”

Éponine sighed. “I don't want to be some rich girl’s little bit of pretend danger so that she can go and tell her friends about how bad she is for knowing someone poor.”

“I think you should go, or you’ll regret never finding out if she was serious or not,” said Musichetta.

“I disagree. If you don’t go, you can always keep the dream that she really did like you, instead of whatever mess reality turns out to be,” said Grantaire.

“Ah, yes, such wonderful advice from the man who has pined forever, Éponine. Imagine, you could be just like Grantaire. What fun you two will have, talking about what could have happened.” Musichetta rolled her eyes and finished her coffee.

Grantaire looked offended, but Musichetta cut him off. “You make fun, but you only wish Enjolras would invite you to afternoon tea.”

He snorted. “More like afternoon whiskey and revolution. And I doubt that Enjolras will ever find a greater love than France, or be distracted from his great love to consider something as mortal and unnecessary as afternoon tea.”

Chetta turned to Éponine. “If you do decide to go, I’ve got a dress and corset you can borrow.”

“And I,” Grantaire said magnanimously, “would be happy to act as your escort, to lend you an air of respectability.”

Éponine laughed.

*

That night, Cosette went down to the kitchen to talk to the cook. “I need cake and tea for tomorrow Marie! I am hoping someone special will come, and I would like to have afternoon tea in the garden.”

Mme Marie smiled at her. “Of course, _ma petite.”_

Cosette thought of the fierce way Éponine held herself, the way she didn’t care who Cosette was. She wondered if Éponine would really come, or if she’d just said she would so that Cosette would leave. She hoped she would. She hadn’t had so much fun with anyone in ages, let alone someone so different and so lovely and strong and daring.

It felt foolish to hope, but she still went to bed dreaming.

The morning promised an even hotter day. The air hung heavy with humidity and even the birds moved slowly. 

Cosette helped the maids set up for tea in the garden, letting the warmth soak into her skin. They pulled out the intimate white wrought iron table, the one that was just big enough for two plates and a pastry holder. 

When they were set, and she was sleepy with the sun, she went to get properly dressed. Her maid, Louise, gently pulled off her dressing gown and hung it up. They looked at her closet. Her maid got her chemise, corset, and petticoats ready and waited for Cosette to choose her dress. She had many pretty dresses, all of them suitable for tea with a new acquaintance, but her eye kept getting caught on her pink wrapper. 

It was light and joyous, with delicate lace around the neck and embroidered with songbirds. It was quite a breach of etiquette, especially given that she’d only met Éponine the one time, but the day was getting warmer by the hour and she wanted to show Éponine that she could be daring too. She might not have trousers, but a wrapper was only worn with a chemise, drawers, and a petticoat. No corset, no crinoline, just her and gentle, flowing fabric. She pulled it out.

Louise helped her into her silk chemise and drawers and then reached for the corset.

Cosette held up a hand to stop her. “Not today. Just the wrapper please, Louise.”

Louise raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment further. “Alright, Mademoiselle.”

As the two of them set to buttoning up the dress she couldn’t help but imagine Éponine’s quick fingers undoing them again.

She shook her head to clear it. She would be happy if Éponine came and just wanted to be her friend. She didn’t need to have her in bed.

She didn’t want to expect anything of her, but hope was such a treacherous thing.

*  


Éponine looked up at the tall wooden doors that guarded Cosette’s house with trepidation. She gripped Grantaire’s arm tightly. “Is this a bad idea?"

“Probably,” he said, “But that’s never stopped you before.”

She took a deep breath and knocked.

A butler opened the door and waved her in. “Mlle. Éponine, I presume. And this is…?”

She smiled, demure as she could. “This is M. Grantaire, my… brother.” 

Grantaire snorted under his breath.

Suddenly, she could hear footsteps running down the stairs. An out-of-breath Cosette arrived at the bottom. “Is that her —“ 

She stopped when she saw Éponine and drew herself up.

Éponine just gaped at her, forgetting her nervousness. Cosette was wearing a _wrapper_. Her face heated up. It was shapeless, for the most part, with only a few darts to suggest at her figure. There was no way she was wearing a corset underneath, not with the way she’d run down the stairs.

Cosette was staring at her too, and Éponine fidgeted with her borrowed dress.   
Musichetta’s hands were smaller than hers, and the gloves pinched a bit, but she had incited that no proper woman was to go out without them.

“Hi,” she breathed out. 

Cosette’s face burst into a wide smile, and she said, just as softly, “I’d hoped you’d come.”

They took a moment to just look at each other.

Grantaire broke the tension between them. “I think I’ll take my leave. Mlle. Cosette, it was a pleasure.”

Cosette seemed to only now notice Grantaire. She straightened and put on a more gracious smile. “Of course. Thank you for escorting Éponine.”

He squeezed her hand and left.

Cosette gestured deeper into the house. “I’ve set up for tea in the garden, if you’d like to eat outside.”

Éponine nodded. Looking around, she realised that the butler had left some time ago, while she’d been mooning over Cosette.

They walked through the hall, Éponine barely taking in the rooms they passed. She couldn’t take her eyes off the way Cosette moved under her wrapper. She wanted to turn away, to let Cosette put on something more modest, to stop objectifying her. She closed her eyes. _She’s probably just worried about overheating outside._

Cosette led her to a door off the dining room. She pulled a key off the hook next to it and carefully opened it.

For a moment, Éponine forgot about everything.

The back garden was a lush jungle of colour. A sandstone path led from the door to a central patio with a table and chairs, surrounded on all sides by bushes of flowers. Roses climbed the walls beside them and spilled out from painted pots, twisted trees with great balls of petals dotted the boundary, and there, at the far end of the garden, was a cherub made of topiary. The buzzing of bugs flying around drowned out the traffic outside.  
The garden was not particularly big, being in the centre of Paris, but the fruit trees growing along the perimeter walls gave the illusion that the garden stretched into a dense forest instead of brick.

She stepped out, taking a deep breath, smelling the thick scent of the flowers. “It’s lovely.”

She turned around. Cosette was watching her with a little smile. “I’m glad you like it. This is my favourite part of the house.”

“I can see why. I think I could forget all of my troubles here.”

“Yes! Leave the outside world behind and just be here.”

Éponine smiled.

Cosette ducked inside and came back with a bonnet. She tried to put it on, but a breeze swept up and she had to grab it and hold it on her head. “Can you— would you— help me, please, Éponine?”

The ribbons fluttered around her face and Éponine felt suddenly, unaccountably, fond. “Of course.”

She took off her gloves, approached Cosette and realised her mistake. This close, she could feel Cosette’s exhales across her cheeks. She took hold of each ribbon and tied them into a bow. Cosette kept her eyes on her the whole time. As she let go, the back of her fingers brushed against her jaw.

She pulled away. “Shall we eat?”

Cosette didn’t say anything, just nodded.

Éponine’s anxiety reappeared once they sat down. The table was set with an army’s worth of minuscule cutlery. The china tea cups were so fine that the sun shone through them.

A maid moved around them, setting down tiered plates of brightly coloured confections and bite-sized sandwiches. 

She set down a large tea pot and a jar of honey. Cosette thanked her and she died a curtsy at the two of them.

Cosette started pouring the tea. “I think this is the new rose tisane we imported from England. It’s supposed to be quite nice.”  
Éponine only nodded at her. 

Cosette continued, gesturing at the food, “We have cucumber and mint sandwiches to start, and then Cook made macaroons, sweet buns, and cake. There’s also fruit and cream, if you’d like it.” She trailed off. They picked at the food in silence, Éponine focusing on remembering the bits and pieces of etiquette she’d heard. 

She wished she knew what to say, what would make this less awkward. She wanted Cosette to laugh again.

She fumbled with the spoon she was using to stir her tea and it clattered onto the table, leaving a stain on the white table cloth. “Sorry!” 

She cringed.

She worried her fingers along the lacy edge.

She asked, “Why did you ask me here?”

Cosette looked up. “You know, I met you and you talked to me like I was a person, even if I was one you didn’t hold in particularly high regard. It was refreshing. I wanted to talk to you more.”

“That’s pretty sad, honestly.”

Cosette finally, _finally_ , laughed. “That’s gentlemen for you.”

“So you wanted me here after I stole from you? What made you think I wouldn’t just rob you blind?”

"Nothing. But if you did I wouldn’t care. We’re all doing what we can to survive.”

“That’s impossibly naive.”

“No, naive is thinking you wouldn’t rob me. I just don’t care. I met you, I like you. If you decide to rob me, so be it. I think it might be worth it to have a shot at a friend.”

“A friend?” Her heart thudded. 

Cosette smiled at her. “If you like.”

She looked like she might say more, but the maid came back with a new pot of tea. Once she left, Cosette threw off her bonnet. She turned her face up into the sun and sighed, languid and sated. The sun kissed her cheeks. She blinked one lazy eye open and smiled at Éponine. Everything about her was dazzling.

Éponine, in the shade of her borrowed bonnet’s brim, was impossibly warm. She took a bite of cake to try and calm her nerves. It was a mistake. The thin layers of sponge were held together with thick creme Chantilly and sliced strawberries. Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Across from her, Cosette sighed.

Éponine really regretted wearing a proper dress, with all its layers and corsetry.  
A breeze fluttered by, cooling her slightly. She looked over at Cosette and found Cosette looking back. She winked, and then Éponine jumped as Cosette’s stocking foot slowly ran up her leg. She shuddered. The foot disappeared.

She leaned in and made eye contact with Cosette as she ate a raspberry piled high with cream. The raspberry burst cool and sour-sweet in her mouth. She could feel Cosette’s eyes on her like a physical touch.

She had closed her eyes when she’d eaten the raspberry, and when she opened them Cosette was smiling at her like she had a secret.

They both giggled. Éponine smiled back at her, wide and happy.

Cosette came over to her side of the table, her head blocking the sun. “You look so hot in all those layers, do you want to come inside?”

Éponine smiled and bit her lip, looking up at her. This felt like a dream, but when she took Cosette’s hand, it was so, so real.

Together and laughing, they ran inside.

*

Cosette pulled Éponine up the stairs to her room. They were breathless, laughing and shaking with anticipation.

When they reached Cosette’s room, she crowed Éponine up against the door, resting her forearms by the sides of her head. For a moment they both stood there, drinking each other in. Éponine could feel her exhale against her cheek, and was overwhelmed by the sweet rose perfume. Her eyes fluttered closed and Cosette swayed forward, finally pressing her lips to hers. Éponine gasped. Cosette tasted like roses and jam, sweet and light.

Cosette tugged at the ribbons securing Éponine’s bonnet and pushed it off, letting it fall away. Éponine felt her hair start to fall, and Cosette quickly took out the comb keeping up her bun. She dropped both beside the door. She fumbled beside her for the door handle and twisted it open. The two of them nearly fell into the room, stumbling apart. 

Cosette backed Éponine to the bed, stalking forward with a flush in her cheeks. The backs of her knees hit the edge and Éponine laid down on the cool silk of the bedspread. She reached forward and pulled Cosette on top of her. The weight of her body pinned Éponine to the bed and Cosette took advantage of the situation to kiss and bite at her neck.

Unfortunately, the way she was lying also left Éponine’s corset biting into her. She gasped and pushed Cosette back. “One second, one second…”

Cosette looked at her with her big eyes. “Is everything okay? Is this too much?”

Éponine sat up and smiled at her. She reached out and pulled Cosette back in, gently kissing her parted lips. “Everything is wonderful, don't worry -- it's just that my corset wasn’t letting me bend how I wanted.”

“Ah,” said Cosette. “Well I think I can help you with that particular problem.” She took Éponine’s hand and pulled her up and spun her around like they were dancing. Éponine squeaked. Cosette’s wrapper fluttered around them and Éponine changed her mind.

“I think you first.” She pulled Cosette close and kissed her, then pressed kisses on her lovely red cheeks, and her pretty nose, and mouthed along her jaw. 

Cosette gasped in her arms.

Éponine moved her hands up and started pulling out Cosette’s many hair pins, loosening curl after curl. They tumbled halfway down her back, softly opening. Éponine buried her hands in the thick curls, pushing some behind her ear and kissing the skin there. Cosette’s knees buckled and Éponine slid her hand around her waist to catch her.

The tassels on the end of the ribbon tied at the front of Cosette’s dress tickled Éponine’s wrist, and she grabbed one and lifted it to Cosette’s neck to brush it along her skin, trailing kisses in its wake. Cosette whimpered. “Who knew you could tease?”

“Oh, I think it was plenty obvious when we met, don’t you?” She dropped the tassel and untied the ribbons, leaving only the buttons at Cosette’s bust preserving her modesty. She kissed her, using one hand to start undoing the buttons. They were small, and slipped through her fingers in her hurry, but Éponine was determined and managed to defeat them.

She mouthed at the divot in Cosette’s now exposed collarbone. She scraped lightly with her teeth and Cosette gasped again. She pushed the wrapper off her shoulders and it pooled on the ground, landing on their feet, leaving Cosette in only her chemise and drawers, which Éponine made quick work of. The chemise trembled as she pulled the thin material up over Cosette’s head, hiding her for a moment. Cosette kicked off her drawers, and then she was standing in front of Éponine, naked.

Éponine swore. “How did I get so lucky?”

Cosette smiled at her, tender. “You were you.”

Éponine kissed her then, chaste but for Cosette’s naked breasts pressing against her clothed ones. 

Cosette deepened the kiss, her tongue licking into Éponine’s mouth. Éponine pulled away and smirked at her, then moved her attention to Cosette’s breasts. A few of her curls had fallen forward and they partially covered her chest. Éponine placed kisses on the exposed areas, then started caressing them, tracing Cosette’s areolas, pinching her nipples. She softly bit at the underside of one, and then laved at the stop with her tongue, looking up at Cosette through her eyelashes.

Cosette pushed her back. “Mmm, I think it’s my turn to help you get comfortable.” She moved around Éponine to stand behind her, pressing her crinoline up in front so she could be close as possible.

Musichetta’s dress had a lace neck that went up to Éponine’s chin. Cosette ran her hand along the neckline, fingers brushing the underside of her jaw. Éponine could feel the warmth of her fingers in the holes of the lace, and just pressure on the covered places, never sure what would come next. She shuddered. 

Cosette started unbuttoning her. There were dozens of buttons, all no bigger than a thumbnail that ran down Éponine’s back. When she reached the base of her neck, Cosette placed a kiss there.

Slowly, methodically, she undid each and every button on Éponine’s borrowed dress. They ended at her waist. Cosette ran her hands between her dress and petticoat, into her sleeves so that the bare skin of their arms were touching, forcing the top of the dress to come off. She pulled her hands out, and Éponine helped her lift the dress over her head.

She unwrapped layer after layer, pulling off Éponine’s over petticoat, letting her crinoline sway with her movements, then untying it and letting it drop to the floor, raising her under petticoat over her head and letting it join Cosette’s on the floor. Their clothes were strewn around, masses of silk and wool. Every time they took off another piece she was lighter and lighter.

Cosette kissed along each new piece of exposed skin, overwhelming Éponine with the sensations. They reached Éponine’s corset and Cosette pressed back in, slowly loosening the ribbons, her hands on Éponine’s back, caressing her.

As her corset loosened, Éponine thought she would breathe in easier and easier, but every time Cosette touched her she lost her breath again.

She tossed off her chemise and drawers without much fanfare, and then they were both bare. They stood there for a minute, not kissing but their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in, breasts just a whisper apart. Finally, tenderly, Éponine kissed Cosette, leaning into her fully. Like a dam breaking, gasping, Cosette licked into her mouth, teeth clashing until they found a rhythm. They grasped at each other and Cosette pushed her onto the bed, Éponine slipping back and back until she hit the carved wooden headboard, and the gauze curtains of the four poster bed grazed her hair. Her legs fell open. Cosette crawled forward to kneel between Éponine’s spread thighs. Éponine watched the sway of her breasts as she moved, mesmerised. 

Cosette kissed her everywhere but her mouth, peppering her jaw and neck, trailing down her chest, along her breasts, mouthing at her nipple, nipping at her belly, then not touching anything below the start of her pubic hair, instead kissing her inner thighs, behind her knees, then reaching a hand up to touch her breasts until Éponine groaned and said, “Please, please, _please_.”

Cosette finally touched her, tracing her labia with light fingers, following them with equally light kisses that made Éponine writhe. She pushed one finger into her, caressing her inside. She mouthed at the skin of her hip joint and pushed a second finger in. Crooking her fingers, she pulled them back and forth, massaging them against the sensitive spot there. 

A jolt of pleasure shot through Éponine and she threw her head back and moaned, twisting up the sheets in her hands. Cosette brushed her thumb, slick against Éponine’s clit and she buckled. She did it again and again, pumping her fingers and wetly caressing her as Éponine lost more and more control. 

She moaned shamelessly, thrusting against Cosette’s fingers, eyes squeezed shut, desperate for pleasure. “Oh god, oh god, Cosette, god, _please, I need more._ ”

And then the finger against her clit was replaced with the wet heat of Cosette’s mouth and Éponine shattered. Cosette kept her mouth on her as she came, each lick of her tongue driving her more wild. She was distantly aware of chanting Cosette’s name, over and over, but she didn’t care. Anyone who could give this much bliss deserved to be venerated.

After, Éponine laid on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Cosette had taken her fingers out but still gently touched her vulva with a warm hand. 

“Thank you,” Éponine sighed.

Cosette looked up at Éponine with wide eyes and Éponine hauled her up for a messy kiss. Cosette’s hands cupped her face, leaving slippery handprints on her jaw. Her kisses had a desperate edge, and her hips thrust against Éponine’s.

She broke the kiss and flipped them over so that she was on top of Cosette, her thighs bracketing her. She took hold of Cosette’s hands and pinned them to the pillow above her head. Cosette gasped.

Éponine looked down at Cosette spread out before her. She looked utterly wrecked and Éponine had barely done anything. She was flushed and sweaty, and her mouth glistening from what she had done to Éponine. Her golden hair tangled in the sheets.

Everything about her was delicious, and Éponine hardly knew where to begin.

Cosette looked up at her and wriggled in invitation. “You can do more than look, you know.”

“Hush you,” Éponine said. “Patience is a virtue.” She let go of Cosette’s hands, though, and swept her own down her arms, falling forward so that most of her weight was on Cosette.

Cosette groaned, and Éponine captured her mouth in a kiss.

She tenderly massaged Cosette’s arms, rubbing her thumbs on the insides of her wrists, trailing feather-light touches on her biceps, running them up from her underarms.

Cosette giggled against her lips. Éponine stilled, her hands resting on her triceps.

Cosette broke away grinning. “It tickles!”

Éponine smiled back at her and walked her fingers along her underarm. Cosette jerked under her. “Does it?”

Cosette screwed her eyes shut and nodded. Little giggles still escaped her.

Éponine lowered her mouth and licked the bit of skin between her breasts and her arm. 

Cosette shuddered, her mouth dropping open.

Éponine pressed a line of kisses up her armpit. When she reached the top, she gave her a little bite. “Does it still tickle?”

Cosette only moaned in response.

Éponine took advantage of her distraction and slipped down her body, taking one of her dusky pink nipples into her mouth.

Cosette’s whole body jerked. Her head lolled to the side, and she let out a guttural moan. “God, _yes_ , Éponine, _yes_.”

Letting Cosette’s nipple fall out of her mouth, Éponine placed a quick kiss on her chest. Then she slipped a hand around her breast and blew on her wet nipple. 

Cosette _screamed_.

Éponine jumped back, expecting a maid to come running.

Cosette glared at her. “Don’t stop, what are you doing?”

“Trying to not be arrested for defiling the mistress of the house!”

“Don’t be silly.” Cosette pulled her back in for a kiss. “I made sure the maids knew not to bother us. Now come back, I was _so close_.”

Pushing aside her alarm that the maids knew that she was bedding Cosette, Éponine returned to her worship of Cosette’s breasts. Cosette buried her fingers in Éponine’s hair, caressing her head. She leaned down and kissed Éponine’s forehead.

It was all so much. Even though she was on top of Cosette, she felt surrounded by her. Her wrists against Éponine’s jaw, her gasps against her hair, her heartbeat against her mouth as she licked Cosette’s nipple. 

Éponine closed her eyes and just trembled for a moment. Cosette’s thumb rubbed in gentle circles, waiting for Éponine to collect herself.

When she felt together enough to continue she let her hands wander. She wanted to touch as much of Cosette as humanly possible, to make her feel every bit of emotion in Éponine.

She brought one of her hands down, slipping between Cosette’s legs. She swirled her fingers along her vulva, getting them nice and wet.

“Oh, _fuck_.” Cosette’s fingers tightened in her hair. Éponine trailed her wet fingers all across Cosette’s other breast, pinching her nipple and giving it a few little flicks.

Cosette was thrusting up into nothing, so Éponine took pity on her. She slid her thigh between her legs to give her some friction.

Cosette pulled Éponine’s head up and licked into her mouth, all wet heat. Éponine let herself rut against Cosette’s thigh. It was good, but not quite wet enough to really let herself slide.

Cosette clearly agreed with her, because she reached over Eponine, fumbling at her vanity. She broke the kiss to look over, and grabbed a dainty pink perfume bottle and tipped it into her hand. Oil rushed out, coating her hand. Cosette pulled her down and rubbed the oil all over both their thighs, making everything slick.

Cosette rocked against her faster and faster, tiny cut-off gasps escaping her lips, her eyelids fluttering and she came.  
Eponine let her own need take over and thrust more and more, just feeling the warm slip and slide pleasure as her clit moved across Cosette’s leg.

*

Later, sweaty and disheveled, they laid curled up in each other. Éponine let herself pet Cosette’s hair, marvelling again how soft it was. She was calm, her mind quiet in a way it never was. Cosette’s face nuzzled into her neck, her little breaths tickling Éponine’s neck.

Éponine grinned. “Well, that was terrible. Bottom marks. We both need practice.”

Cosette reached out blindly and hit her with a pillow. She pulled away and propped up on her forearms. Her eyes were sparkling. “I like you so much, I want to see you again and again and again.”

Éponine thought of all the reasons why that was a bad idea — they were from different worlds, they would never be able to fully understand each other, she could already feel her future heartbreak when Cosette finally found a man to settle down with. But there was something so lovely about Cosette that made her sure that whatever future heartbreak would be well worth it.

She pressed a kiss to the corner of Cosette’s mouth. “Then let’s see each other again and again and again. We have all the time in the world.”

Cosette curled back up and kissed the pulse point on Éponine’s neck. “Will you stay for dinner?”

Éponine nodded, and they fell asleep in a patch of sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I have plans to turn this into a series! Hit subscribe so you get notified when I upload new parts!
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://theskyandsea.tumblr.com)


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